Black Blood

I look at her not understanding. I can’t figure out how Alisha should know about my incontinence to have children. It’s clearly me, not Christian. It’s women who bring children into the world and therefore produce them, that was always made very clear to me.

Alisha walks over to the bookcase that separates the kitchen from the living room. She grabs a black book from the cupboard, walks back and puts the book on the table.

‘Do you know the book the moon cycle?’ she asks as she opens the book. I shake my head. These kinds of magic books were banned in the castle, way before I understood why. As Alisha flips through the pages, I see drawings of all sorts of creatures passing by. From vampires to every kind of dragon we know. I wish I had this book in front of me before I left on this journey. The knowledge would have been more than welcome.

‘The lunar cycle is the book that contains every kind of creature that walks on this world.’ She pulls back a chair and takes a seat. She flips through it until she reaches one of the last pages.Night Rider.

‘Each creature has its own origin, story and magic. Night Riders are descendants of mages, but are not fully human. When the first four were bonded to the life lines they were simultaneously given the gift of immortality, but paid a high price with it, death. Night Riders are half spirit, half human. That makes you immortal to antiquity, disease but also to violence. It also means that you cannot have children.’ Slowly the wheels in my head begin to turn. There are a number of points that don’t make sense with this story. If I am half dead how is it possible that Nora and Tristan were killed?

‘Wait. If I and the others are immortal. Then how could Nora and Tristan have been killed? Doesn’t immortality make you unable to die?’ I ask as I start reading the book. Although I am a Night Rider, this information is new.

From the creation of magic shunned from the sources. Immortality makes them powerful and invincible. They are above everyone.

‘That’s the question no one gets answered. There are more things that don’t fit with the information in this book. If I am to believe this book, the wounds you have on your back should be long gone. You are supposed to heal within minutes. Night Riders are supposed to be stronger than mages, but from what I see in you, I doubt that.’ Slowly, all the information begins to sink into my head. The bruises, the blood, Nora’s death. It shouldn’t all be there. I have questioned my magic and power before. Only I never thought about the fact that Nora’s death can’t just be caused by the cannonball. It reminds me of Thimon asking questions about how it was possible for my father to have killed Nora. Only now do I understand those questions.

‘It’s not a coincidence,’ I murmur slowly. My father’s hatred for the NIght Riders was nothing new, it had been dragging on for a long time. Why didn’t he act on it earlier? Why did he only now take the step to hunt them down? It crossed my mind a few times when I was still living in the castle, but I never took the time to really think about it. My father is many things. A narcissist, egotist, abuser but impulsive is not one of them. Then the realisation dawns. He planned and prepared this far before the hunt began. I get up from the chair and walk to the window. I let my eyes slide over the square.

‘My father found a way to kill the death,’ I say more to myself than to Alisha.

‘That is impossible.’ As easy and logical as this remark sounds, it is not. It is true, death is impossible to kill. Yet my father found a way to watch death die. Everything that nature has is against it. That would mean that my father has found a way to change the laws of nature and even for a man like my father that is impossible. This realisation brings me to two options. Death is not immortal or Night Riders are not dead. This is the moment I let a gust of wind pass through the room. My heart is pounding in my throat, my hands are sweating. My eyes seem to have enlarged to saucers. The cup on the table does not move more than a few inches. Alisha’s eyes slide from me to the cup it back.

‘Celeste,’ Alisha says slowly as I walk towards the kitchen. I grab a glass from the cupboard, fill it with water and set it down on the counter. Next I grab a knife from the drawer.

‘Celeste,’ says Alisha in a warning tone. Before she can do anything I put the knife in my palm and pull it through my skin. My black blood slips from the wound and drips into the glass of water. I expect to see the water turn a greyish colour. However, at the touch of my blood, the water does not change to grey but to purple. With one drop of blood the whole glass of water turns a deep purple. I slowly take the glass from the sink and hold it up to the light. The purple water is not clear but murky. With the glass in my hand, I walk to the vase with flowers on the kitchen table. All at once I pour all the purple water into the vase. In an instant, all the water in the vase changes to a deep purple. Not only the water changes colour, but also the flowers react. In a few seconds the living colourful flowers change to black and dead. All colour has disappeared from the petals, all life has been beaten out of them.

‘Poison,’ is the only thing that leaves my mouth. My blood is poisoned, that was already clear. But Hemlock should not have this reaction to water, especially not to plants. Then I remember a conversation from long ago.

‘They will weaken within weeks,’ says the right-hand guard. The man next to him laughs. I look up from my book under my eyelashes.

‘How does he do it anyway? Does he sprinkle it in?’ the man on the left asks. The other man leans slightly towards him.

‘Let’s put it this way. He has his little ladies for that.’ The men start laughing together. The left man gives the right man a slap on the shoulder.

‘I must say, the king has a fantastic plan,’ grins the one on the left. They laugh for a few seconds before the left man straightens his jacket.

‘I’d better get to my post,’ says the man on the left.

‘Good boy. You know what they say. Don’t drink the water.’

‘The water, it’s the water.’ Alisha looks at me totally uncomprehendingly. I start walking back and forth through the living room. Everything seems to fall into my head like pieces of a puzzle. This conversation I overheard in the castle months ago, my waning magic, the black blood, Nora’s death, everything becomes logical at once.

‘Don’t you get it? The black blood, the waning magic, Tristan and Nora are dead. It’s not a coincidence, it’s his plan. When I was still living in the castle I overheard a conversation of two guards. They ended their conversation with Don’t drink the water and were talking about something or someone that was going to weaken. The black blood is not a spell, it is a result of a spell. My father poisoned the water. He did not find a way to kill death, but to revive it.’ Alisha looks at me not understanding until her eyes widen.

‘You lose your magic. He changes you to a human.’ That’s what I realised but didn’t dare to speak.